


That's Gonna Leave a Mark

by plsnskanks (orphan_account)



Category: Eddsworld - All Media Types
Genre: Dubious Consent, M/M, Rough Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-18
Updated: 2017-06-18
Packaged: 2018-11-15 12:04:56
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,420
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11230581
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/plsnskanks
Summary: Tord tries to get some while Mark desperately tries not to give him some





	That's Gonna Leave a Mark

**Author's Note:**

> Cutie and Ari you fuckers know you are responsible for this shitpile

Tord is midway through changing into his third set of underwear before it is even noon. He wipes down the accruing slick on his legs and throws the towel into the tub as he sits on the toilet, the picture of pathetic misery. 

Everyone in their house is gone.

Tord knows it’s because no one wants to deal with him in heat. Apparently he is a bit of a monster. Whatever that means.

They used to play last one out deals with Tord. Hot potato where the potato is Tord. Point was, someone used to always be there to help him. Until one heat Matt ended up in the ER. Now it’s watch all three housemates vanish into thin air around the same time, leaving Tord bored, horny, and desperate.

Well. More so than usual.

The doorbell rings. It rings again. Tord thinks about letting it go and just continuing to wallow in misery. But then he wonders if maybe one of his housemates had a change of heart and decided to come back and help him. The chance is slim, but it’s there. Tord pulls himself off the toilet and makes his way down the stairs, moodily flinging open the door.

To see the well muscled back of their Adonis of a neighbor. He turns around and it’s like watching the gorgeous sunrise over the angled perfected peaks of his godly face. 

Tord needs to change his underpants again. Except he isn’t wearing any. Because he forgot to put them back on before he went down the stairs, or any sort of clothes. Mark turns fully around and Tord sees he is holding a giant keg of coke. 

“Hey… uh, there was a delivery mixup again, and do you want me to put this inside for you?”

Tord waggles his eyebrows at Mark turning his charm up to full blast, “I have a couple other things I would like you to put inside as well.”

Marks eyes lower nonplussed, “Sorry sweetheart you aren’t my type, wanna let me put this down?”

Tord steps momentarily putout as he lets Mark in. “Where do I set this?” Mark asked, turning around to see Tord oogling him.

“Kitchen,” Tord says as he finally pulls his eyes up from below Mark’s waist.

“Which is?” Mark asks frustratedly.

Tord gets a shitty little smirk and Mark instantly regrets asking as Tord leads the way, giving him a full view of his ass as he struts past him and around the corner. Mark takes a deep breath, asking himself why they didn’t leave as soon as they saw their neighbors burying mines in their front yard the first day they moved in. They said it was to keep out solicitors. 

Right. Mark makes it into the kitchen without his eyes somehow bleeding it out of his skull and sets the coke keg down on the counter.

“Actually, can you put it in the pantry over there,” Tord says. Mark sighs, picking up the keg and as he is bending down to set it on a low shelf he can practically feel Tord’s eyes burning holes in in the seat of his pants.

When he turns around Tord is laying across the counter and if Mark hadn’t had a good enough view before he certainly did now.

“Like what you see?” Tord says and Mark thinks he’s trying to be sultry.

“I think I know the way out,” Mark says and then abruptly leaves out the kitchen doorway. Tord is off the counter and stumbling over his own two feet. 

“Wait!”

Mark doesn’t turn around but Tord notes the minute lapse in his very upright and regal posture. Yes. Defeat. Bingo, he has him now, his wiles are working.

“How about you stay a little longer, and help me fix rusty pipes” Tord purred.

Mark turns around and see’s both Tord’s face and something else perk up as he firmly grabs the knob of the door and slams it as he exits the house, sealing off his view of his nude neighbor.

By afternoon his housemates have reappeared and after some negotiation it is decided that Matt will help Tord out with his heat again. Tord thinks about Mark the entire time. He wonders how big Mark’s cock is, if he’s long like Matt, thick like Edd. Wonders what kind of noises Mark makes. What he’s into.

Mostly he wonders why Mark wouldn’t fuck him.

He isn’t unattractive, Tord knows that. He’s never really had problems getting a lay before. Usually he is the one being chased, not the other way around. And if he is doing the chasing, usually his prey shows some form of interest. But with Mark? Nothing.

It drives him nuts for the remainder of the time Matt is fucking him. For the rest of the day. For the rest of the week. 

Tord remembers Mark likes to garden and do yard work. Tord starts taking out the trash every day, wearing shorts that are basically crawling up his ass, and when the trash can just happens to flip over, they hike up even further as he bends to pick it up.

It makes him feel like he is a high school girl trying to get railed by the entire football team, but if it gets him what he wants, who cares. 

It doesn’t. Mark doesn’t even look up at him.

Tord doesn’t know why he can’t just go to a bar and snag some guy that looks like Mark, and do the do with him instead, but he can’t. It has to be Mark and it has to be ASAP. The rest of the month is a blur of Tord washing the car in nothing but a thong. Ringo “accidentally” ending up in the neighbor’s yard. Edd’s car tires mysteriously going flat.

Anything and everything to get Tord over in the neighbor’s house. To get Mark’s attention.

Then Tord’s heat hits again. Hits him hard. Right in the head. Because he must have serious brain damage to be out half naked strutting across the lawn to the neighbor’s house. Tom is watching amused from the window.

Mark opens the door and as soon as he sees Tord, panting and flushed, slick running down his very bare, very naked legs, he puts a hand over his face.

“Tord. I have tried being patient, but this is actually a crime. Maybe even a felony.”

Tord tries to speak between heavy breaths, “I just want. To get. Laid.”

“I am very sympathetic to your cause, but I am not interested.”

“But I am in heat.”

“And believe it or not you are actually less attractive in heat than out of it,” Mark said folding his arms across his chest.

“I am in heat and you should be fucking me now,” Tord slurs. He doesn’t notice the movement in the background of Mark.

“Alright Tord nice of you to visit, I think you should go home now,” Mark says starting to close the door. Tord jams his foot into the door and ignores the incensed look it gets him.

“WHAT ARE YOU?” he yells and that shadow in the background becomes a lot clearer when it speaks.

“Mark I’m gonna call the police on this loser,” Eduardo says, cellphone in hand.

Mark sighs, “Don’t bother.” He whistles and looks over to the window where Tom is still watching attentively.

“Hey peanut gallery, you want to go collect your friend?”

Eduardo has 9-9-9 dialed and his finger hovering over the call button as he watches Tom bodily drag Tord off the lawn screeching. 

“Look if I fuck you will you shut up?” Tom shouts at the man as he finally manages to close the door. 

“I don’t want you,” Tord says in this drawn out nasally whine, and Tom is thinking about whether thirty to life is worth ten minutes of respite from this.

“Well Mark sure as shit doesn’t want you. He barely even notices you,” Tom snorts. Maybe rubbing salt in the wound right now isn’t the most optimal choice but he never claimed he wasn’t petty. Tord sits up from the floor at that.

“He doesn’t notice me, I just need to get his attention,” Tord says and before Tom can do or say anything else Tord is gone from in front of him, leaving only a puddle of slick and a mildly concerned Tom.

_____________________

“Right okay, so you took ‘get his attention’…” Tom gestures to the floor which is currently being soaked in gasoline by both of his roommates. “And took as ‘burn down his place of work’. ”

“I for one, think this is an excellent idea,” Matt said as he tossed his empty tank to grab another one. 

“Why are you even here Tom?” Tord snipes as he pulls a box of matches from his pocket. 

“Nothing good on tv,” Tom said as he took a swig from his flask before tucking it back into his hoodie.

“Alright, everyone out,” Tord said as Matt empties the last tank. Once everyone was out and they had put all the tanks back in their car Tord struck the match tossing it into the store. Where it promptly fizzled out and nothing happened.

Tom sighed.

“Alright, Mr.Psychotic stalker, I thought you would be better at arson than this,” Tom sighed as he held out his hand for the match box. Tord slapped it into his waiting palm. Tom pulled out his flask.

“Matt give me a tissue,” Tom said.

“How do you know I have tissues?” Matt asked.

“If you want to keep pretending you don’t wear makeup and you don’t touch it up in the bathroom, that’s fine, but give me a fucking tissue.”

A moment later Tom had a makeshift Molotov in hand. He tossed his flask into the store and then grabbed both of his housemates pulling them into motion as the three of them broke into a dead run.

“Where did you learn to do that kind of shit?” Tord asks as Matt is pulling down the parking break and they are peeling out of the parking lot. As the mall disappears out of sight, Tom looks back watching the small plume of smoke starting to climb into the sky.

“Parties? Detention? Juvy? Fuck if I know,” Tom said as he pulls another flask out of his pocket.

“Wha- why do you have a backup flask, and what are you drinking that catches like that?” Matt said glaring at Tom through the rear view.

“Why doesn’t Tord tell us how he thinks burning down someone’s workplace is going to get him laid?”

“Dodge the question now, pay for it later,” Matt mumbles.

“I don’t want him do date me, I just want a fuck. Whether he hates me or not is irrelevant,” Tord said as he leans his seat back, putting his arms behind his head.

___________________

“Oh hi Mark,” Tom says as he opens the door to see the man red faced and trembling.

“Tord,” is the only word that makes it out of his mouth, low and rumbling.

“Right. Yes,” Tom turns around and shouts, “Mark’s here!” before turning back to face Mark. “Don’t kill him.”

“No promises,” Mark says through gritted teeth.

Tord comes bounding down the stairs as Tom turns on his heel to book it out of there. As Tom leaves and Mark is faced with the face that he is indeed a lone with only Tord and an absolute landfill of festering rage Mark finds his hand almost moving by itself.

Tord is doubling over and covering his crotch. Mark is leaning back and covering his face with his hand.

“Why is it, when I hit you in the face… you cover your crotch. Do you have an erection right now?”

“Depends, would it damage or improve my chances if I did?” Tord managed to eek out as he struggled to bring himself back into an upright position. Mark looked at the darkening skin on the side of his face.

“What chances, you have no chances, we have nothing?” Mark said then looked at his hands. “I have nothing, since you burned down my place of work.”

Mark sighs heavily.

“Look, if I fuck you for an unofficial restraining order, will you never set foot over in my yard again?”

Tord puts out his hand, pulling it up from his crotch, “Deal.”

“I am not touching that,” Mark says as he looks down at the sweaty hand in distaste.

Tord shrugs and wipes his hand on the side of his pants before taking them off. Mark is sad to say he can’t remember the amount of times he has seen Tord being a sweaty naked little cretin. Why does this whole situation feel like he is responding to a men seeking men craigslist add? The fact that he would like to murder Tord and dissolve his body in a bathtub probably doesn’t help

“Alright, where are we doing this.”

Tord gestures to the couch.

“Tord, out of three, how many of your roommates have fucked you on that couch in the last month.”

“Three.”

Tord has never been to church but he has seen those long-suffering looks on those saint statutes as he passed and if Mark doesn’t look like one of those martyrs right now….

“Right okay, we are saran wrapping the couch before I fuck you, it’s non-negotiable.”

Tord thinks Mark is kidding. Two hours and three trips to the grocery store later, Tord learns Mark is not kidding.

“Alright, savor this moment Tord because you will never hear this out of my mouth again, take off your clothes,” Mark said closing his eyes. By the time he opens them Tord is standing naked in front of him.

Right as Mark is starting to pull off his sweater the door opens.

“Hey Tord, hey douche,” Matt said as he walked past them to head up the stairs.

“I find even a shred of evidence you helped burn down that store and I’ll make sure you never even have a shot at parole,” Mark snarls.

“Love to see you try darling,” Matt says before disappearing.

Mark looks at Tord and he is seething all over again, “Hope you like it rough.”

“It’s the only way I like it,” Tord says and something about the cocky little smile and the tilt of his hips has Marks body moving devoid of any mental process.

He has Tord under him pressed against the shitty saran wrap which will probably tear with the first thrust. He could care less. It was never about hygiene, it was about making Tord respect his desires for once in his short, shitty life.

And now that’s what the next half hour is going to be about. Mark thinks about just ramming Tord hard and fast and dirty, just leaving him like that, deal over, contract sealed.

But he doesn’t want that. He doesn’t want to drag himself down to the level Tord has been trying to goad him down to this entire time. 

So he goes and gets some lube from Tord’s nightstand upstairs and coats his fingers in it. He doesn’t need to prepare Tord that much but he takes his time, putting in a finger and then another, stretching and prodding and-

“You don’t need to do that,” Tord says impatiently.

“Courtesy towards my partners is a ritual I seldom allow any sort of lapse in.”

“Tom says otherwise.”

“Hence the seldom. Now shut up, you are getting what you want, just not at the pace you want,” Mark said. He continues his work and Tord starts to moan about halfway through, getting louder and louder, noisier and noisier.

“You know if I wanted a partner that would moan like a hooker to tell me I was doing a good job, I could get an actual hooker.”

Tord cuts off midway through a moan and flushes a shade of red that Mark is reluctant to call cute. Something in the pit of Mark’s stomach gives and he finds himself kissing Tord, pulling him into a chaste little ordeal that Tord doesn’t push any further.

Maybe this can work.

He deepens the kiss a little and he is pressing himself down on Tord a little more firmly. Tord moans a little and it is different this time. It’s a bit softer a little breathy and a hundred percent more genuine.

Mark is kissing his neck and moving down to his chest, he places a light peck on Tord’s nipple and the little intake encourages him to continue to suck and nip a bit. Tord is squirming a little and yeah, that’s cute.

Mark can feel his ball of resentment crumbling and it’s worrying him. Worrying him that Tord could drag him to hell and back and still manage to get him in bed like this.

He is sliding his hand down his thigh, rubbing up towards Tord’s crotch and enjoying the way his face lights up just a little each time he gets closer to touching Tord’s loins with his other hand. He pulls his hand out and leans down to spread Tord and he starts lapping a little and that has Tord sliding his hands into his hair and again those noises, in that high clean down, nothing forced about it.

He looks up and Tord’s head is tossed back, eyes squeezed shut and he sincerely looks like he is enjoying the moment and is actually present in it.

Mark slides himself up, pressing himself skin to skin with Tord and lining himself up with Tord’s entrance.

“You ready?”

“Born ready,” Tord says and that little smirk is back and suddenly Mark is finding it hard to not go soft.

Mark looks him dead in the eye, “You know, maybe if you didn’t isolate yourself willfully like this you would be a lot less desperate and a lot more charming.”

“Can you just fuck me and not pick apart my childhood baggage,” Tord says, sarcasm dripping in tone but eyes refusing to meet Mark’s. 

Mark pushes in and about three quarters of the way through he feels hands digging into his shoulders. He stops.

“Go.”

“No.”

Tord is glaring at him with, pain written clearly across his face, but anger and arrogance well present too. Mark shifts up just a little and notes the wince. He looks down at Tord’s limp erection and starts to stroke him, ignoring Tord’s impatient little thrusts and attempts to shift down on his cock. When the thrusts stop Mark starts to move at a slow pace pulling out and pushing in.

“I want you to fuck me,” Tord gasps as Mark pushes in for a third time with his gratingly slow pace.

“What is your definition of fuck,” Mark smiles as he pulls out. “Mine is penis in orifice. I seem to be meeting that definition right now.”

“Harder, faster, you must be angry huh, about me burning down your shitty little store,” Tord bites out and Mark hates that his hips give a hard thrust at that, almost without him thinking. Tord winces and grins at him.

Mark starts to go even slower, running his hands down Tord’s sides, rubbing at his nipples and noting the way his hits twitch a little when he tweaks a nipple. Mark uses a hand to rub Tord’s neck firmly and Tord lets out a whimper.

“Okay- fuck, you can stop this is over, I’m done,” Tord gasps. “If you aren’t going to fuck me, I am done.”

Mark pulls out. “I am giving you exactly what you asked, just not in the manner you want it. You want a fuck, I don’t have it for you, not in the way you want it. You want to stop being a child and stop pulling some unhealthy bullshit from people treating you like trash, maybe then I will have what you want.”

Mark makes what is probably the shittiest decision of the day. He goes to the kitchen and snags a pen from a cup on the counter and a note off the fridge. He writes seven digits.

“Here, call me when you are ready to get your half of the bargain,” Mark says, and he hands Tord the note, pulls on his pants and leaves without slamming the door leaving Tord confused as hell on the couch.

“What the fuck does that even mean?” Tord shouts at the closed door.

Silence is the answer.


End file.
